It Could Happen To You
by Jacquelin Sparrow
Summary: AU. One shot. Jack Sparrow's rein of infamy has come to an end. What happens to those around him when they succumb to grief?


"He'd like to talk with you." Will's voice was husky, his face pale save for the dark circles beneath his eyes. Mari's jaw muscles flexed under the flesh; she swallowed, hard.

"Right then," Mari clapped him on the shoulder. "Try an' rest, Will. Killin' yerself won't save 'im."

Will managed a weak smile before trudging into the shadows. Mari put her hand on the door, standing, thinking. He'd recovered from worse, she knew that. But he was younger then, unafraid. Incautiousness made him immortal, when it would have made other men die more quickly. Mari's hand began to shake, and she made a fist before entering the room. Her boots sounded loud on the planks.

Jack lay in his bed, propped by pillows. A swath of bandage covered a torso that still held muscle, but seemed grey rather than its swarthy tan. Hands that wove rope and picked pockets, tied off belaying pins and wielded blades lay motionless on the coverlet. The lively face was still; the dark, passionate eyes were glassy. The muscle rippled in Mari's jaw again; she blinked and went to him.

"My lass," Jack murmured. He moved a hand, reaching for her, and she clasped it before it could fall short.

"Dad." The word caught and swirled in the back of Mari's throat, coming out as a sort of hiccup. She sat down on the bed.

"Ye look just like yer mum, y'know." He smiled; light came into his eyes. "They called 'er the beauty o' the seas. All of 'em, not just the one, savvy?"

"You're not going to die." The words spilled out before she could stop them. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Now, didn't I teach ye ne'er t' lie unless it's yer neck on the line?" He considered this. "Or t' get what ye deserve as a pirate. I won't see another sunrise, my lass, ye know that."

Mari nodded. "Knowin' doesn't mean I have to like it. Or that I can't fight against it."

Jack squeezed her fingers. "I want ye t' have the _Pearl_, when I go. 'Least until young Will pulls his head from his arse and goes outlaw."

Mari closed her eyes, breathing slow and deep. This was all too real, too present. This father she loved and barely knew couldn't be leaving, not now.

"Mari."

The woman looked up, meeting Jack's eyes.

"Will ye take care o' me _Pearl_?"

Mari's gaze never wavered. "As if she were me own."

Jack sighed, closing his eyes. "That's my lass. My lovely, sweet lass, that I never deserved…" He sighed again, but no breath replaced that expelled. His eyes were blank, still fixed on his fire-haired lass.

The scream rang through the ship like the howl of a squall wind. Will, crouched next to the rail with his head in his arms, sprang up, heart racing. He sprinted to the sound's source, slamming Jack's door open to find Mari kneeling on the floor, keening like a phantom, hands rolled in the bedclothes. Jack lay motionless on the bed.

Pain like a cold ball of fire exploded in Will's stomach and he was kneeling next to Mari, pulling her into his arms, adding his voice to hers. She clutched his arms so that he bruised, and he held her as if he would make them one person. Mari's arms went round his neck, her fingernails scoring his scalp. Will felt her ribs bend under the pressure of his embrace. The fury of grief seemingly lasted both hours and seconds before the two fell to silent, limp weeping, hanging in each other's arms.

Mari's face lay cushioned in the crook of Will's arm, even as he settled his face on her back. Tears drizzled from them both for a few moments before Mari moved, sliding upward, standing. Will stood with her, the two tangled, still. They made a meandering path to Mari's quarters— aboard the _Pearl_, her room adjoined with Jack's. Here, Mari disentangled, leaving Will in the room's center while she rummaged for rum. Hoisting the bottle in mock-triumph, she drank deep and tossed it to her companion.

Will set the bottle to his lips, savoring the slow burn of alcohol as it rolled to his stomach. He slid a step backward and thumped onto the bed where Mari lay, sprawled, eyeing the ceiling. He handed the bottle to her and she sat up to drink. The rum changed hands once more and while Will sipped, Mari leaned a shoulder against him. He patted her knee as she drank, slid an arm around her when he retrieved the rum. He held the bottle to her again, but she touched his jaw, gently tilting his face toward her. Will set the bottle on the floor, ignoring its spilling as his mouth met Mari's.


End file.
